


Sleepless Nights

by Rosewood_Writes



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Darkspawn, Fluff, Insomnia, M/M, Nightmares
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-30
Updated: 2018-11-30
Packaged: 2019-09-02 18:06:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16792039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rosewood_Writes/pseuds/Rosewood_Writes
Summary: After a mission went wrong on the Storm Coast, Assan has trouble sleeping through the night without reliving the horrors of his failure. Dorian offers him comfort.





	Sleepless Nights

The stone floor was cold against Assan’s bare feet as he paced the room. His hands had taken on a life of their own, running through his hair, rubbing his face. All he wanted was to sleep, but every time he closed his eyes, he saw them---snarling, feral, monstrous creatures slaughtering as they pleased.  
Blackwall had tried his best to describe them to him, brace him for what he was about to fight. Nothing could have truly prepared him for what it was like fighting darkspawn. They had no true order---slaughtering, pillaging, burning as they roamed-- and killed with what could very well be great relish.  
The smell of smoke and blood had stayed with him all the way from the storm coast. Not even the brisk mountain air could make it go away. He still felt the heat and the blood on his skin. His muscles still quivered from the terror.  
For weeks it had haunted him, what felt like his first true failure. When they had heard of the darkspawn in the area, he had been one of many to wave the threat aside. It was only when they arrived at the first small fishing town that he realized what his relaxed pace had wrought.  
The village was gone.  
Most of the town was little more than a few burned beams. They found no bodies, only the husks of the houses and shops. When they had reached the center of town, though, they discovered who had been responsible. A mountain of burned bodies rose up in the crossroads. Assan had to turn away, leaning on his horse as he tried desperately not to be sick in front of his soldiers. He’d been in many raging battles, but none of the gore he’d seen was as foul and aborantly evil as this.  
After casing the surroundings, they estimated the group as thirty individuals at the most. At first, Assan had found the odds comforting. Their group was sixty soldiers strong. Blackwall’s expression quickly doused his confidence. Neither of them said a word about the fight they would be in for. As they mounted up again, Assan could feel his nerves tying knots in his stomach.  
They rode out of the town at a breakneck pace, desperate to reach the next town before the horde reached them. But another burned village, this one still smouldering unlike the last, was all that greeted them on arrival. There were no bodies this time. Rage like he had never felt before filled him as they continued on towards the final town. How could anything that breathed be so twisted? Part of him began to wonder if the chantry was right about the darkspawn and their origins after all.  
Hope renewed the entire group as they arrived to the town. They were greeted warmly by the villagers. Assan gathered up all the prominent citizens and told them of the fate of their neighbors. Despite their grief and their fear, they had refused to go, believing so wholeheartedly that the great Inquisitor would be able to protect them from harm.  
If only that had been the case.  
When night came and they saw the fires from the darkspawn camp in the distance, some of the villagers heeded his warnings and left with what belongings they could carry. Barely a few hours after they departed, the drums started, a savage and chaotic tempo in the night. Then came the shrieks and howling. That was when all hell broke loose.  
Scared villagers peered out of their doors, listening to the cacophony and realizing the terrible mistake they had made in staying. Assan ordered his troops into position, taking to the rooftops with the other archers and the spellcasters. The cacophony ceased, leaving nothing but a tense, chilling silence.  
Then they came crashing through the trees, snarling and howling in savage glee as they overwhelmed the front lines. Screams pierced the night as the darkspawn broke through inquisition ranks to wreak havoc on the village. Assan fired arrows as fast as he could, but the darkspawn did not feel pain like men did. A single arrow no longer did the trick. His quiver ran out quickly.  
When the buildings started burning, he and the other archers and mages were forced to the ground. Assan drew his daggers, dancing around on his feet to take in the battle as quickly as he could. The smoke from the fires was filling the streets with smog, staining the town with a reddish orange haze.  
The fight went on for hours before the final few darkspawn were slain. Only half of Assan’s company had survived, and only a handful of villagers had managed to make it through the night. When the Inquisition left, he had never felt more hollow. His first true failure as Inquisitor, and a spectacular one at that. What good was he if he couldn’t properly protect the people he fought for?  
Assan tensed as a pair of arms wrapped around him from behind. He looked behind him, a weary smile breaking the tense frown when he locked eyes with Dorian. He smiled back, his eyes still blurry from sleep.  
“You’ll make a rut in the floor if you keep up with your incessant pacing, amatus,” Dorian whispered as he planted a few soft kisses to his shoulder and neck. His lover’s lips were warm against his chilled skin  
“I can’t help it,” Assan leaned his head back on Dorian’s shoulder, relaxing back into his embrace. Of all those present back on the coast, Assan was glad Dorian wasn’t one of them.  
They stood in silence for a moment. Dorian yawned and tightened his grip on Asssan’s middle. “Come to bed, Amatus.”  
Assan shook his head. He’d only see it all again when he closed his eyes. And he didn’t think he could stand to relive the torment again. “I can’t….”  
“You can,” Dorian replied, lowly backing them towards the bed. Assan dug his heels into the floor, but it did little to help him resist. With ease, Dorian spun him around and pulled him tightly to his chest. Assan rested his head in the crook of his neck. “Sleep. Please.” Dorian said, planting a kiss on the top of his head between the words.  
Assan let out a tired sigh and relented. Damn him and his innocent begging. “I’ll try.”


End file.
